To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern,

I hereby fervently resign from infertility and loss. I resign from the monthly, torturous hope coming to nothing. I resign from the vicious cycle starting again. I resign from time passing too quickly and too slowly all at once. I resign from waking to blood and a broken heart.

I resign from everyone else's pregnancy announcements being like a punch to my gut, coming in what seems to be an endless stream, catching me off guard just when I start to feel normal and happy again, dragging me down to the depths of my mind all over again. Soon, at least all of my friends will be pregnant, and I'll get a break from happy announcements. Then, I'll just watch their happy, healthy pregnancies while I remain an empty shell with ghosts to keep me company. Ghosts of people I never got to meet, that I had planned to love for a long time, and still do. Forever loving someone out of reach.

I resign from this being so hard for me, while it seems so easy for everyone else. I resign from hearing, “We weren't even really trying! And what do you know? It's twins!” I resign from all the testing and all the trying while it just happens for everyone else. I resign from it taking all joy from my life. I resign from being angry and bitter. I resign from dragging myself through this life, forcing myself to exist.

I resign from being told, “Hang in there,” or “Be patient.” I've been hanging in there for much longer than you know. I resign from the lab tech asking me how far along I am as they do my hcg blood draw only for me to have to explain that I'm there for a miscarriage, to make sure that every last trace of my baby leaves me. I resign from crying in front of strangers because they asked. I resign from watching all the healthily pregnant people waiting for their appointments while I wait for these blood draws where I have to keep talking about my loss. I resign from listening to other heartbeats through walls while my empty body waits to be fully empty, bleeding onto the thin sheet beneath me. I resign from the ultrasound technician making it clear to me that the sound I'm about to hear is blood flow to my ovaries, making sure that I don't mistake it for a heartbeat, because there is none. I don't even think my own heart is beating at this point. Surely this is more than anyone can endure? Surely I can stop feeling anything at all now?

I resign from people asking when I'm going to have a baby and not dropping it, and having to tell them how I can't keep a pregnancy, no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do. I resign from having to lay this all bare in public and then having to finish suffering through whatever stupid event I'm at that can't come close to filling the hole in my heart. Quite often, that event is a baby shower. Quite often, the person who is asking is visibly pregnant. Meanwhile, I had just purchased extra absorbent pads while I was picking up the veggie tray for the shower.

I resign from those who know asking if I'm ok, because of course I'm not, but no one knows what else to say, what else to do. There's nothing to be done, what I want most is an impossibility, and I have to learn to live with that.

I resign from turning into the most foul human being, lashing out at those around me because my body is broken and I'm hopelessly stuck inside it and they happen to be near the explosion of my endless pain.

It has been said that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, and there was a time in my life when I believed that to be true. I don't know that I believe that anymore. I'm not strong enough for that. I'd rather live in ignorance than in remembrance. Remembrance of all that could have been. Remembrance of hope ripped away time and time again.

I'm so tired of the loss. What would I give to have the loss be taken away from me for once?

I resign from passing through this life a shell, not fully present because of a desperate wanting of something that can't come to pass. I want to feel good again, to feel happy. These days are slipping by no matter how I spend them. I don't want to spend them sad anymore.

In conclusion, I'm resigning from this struggle and stepping into the hope of something else. Whatever that may be, I don't know yet, but there will be joy.

Sincerely,

Diana